


Siren

by flying_siphonophore



Series: Hit It 'til It Breaks [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Bathtub Sex, Come Eating, Established Relationship, F/M, Fingering, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Firsts, Flirting, Fluff, Frottage, How Do I Tag, Intimacy, Lotsa throbbing lol i need to edit this again, Massage, Mentions of Virginity, No Virgin Kink, Non-Penetrative Sex, Nudity, Oral Sex, Post-Time Skip, Romance, Sakusa Kiyoomi Is A Virgin, Sexual Tension, Smut, Trust, Voyeurism, Yearning, but it's just an aspect of the story, the oral sex is very minor but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26332969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flying_siphonophore/pseuds/flying_siphonophore
Summary: Spontaneous courage, bolstered by your charm, leads to the first culmination of his desires.
Relationships: Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader, sakusa kiyoomi/You
Series: Hit It 'til It Breaks [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904287
Comments: 20
Kudos: 340





	Siren

**Author's Note:**

> I see a lot of Sakusa smut on tumblr where he's very much a mean dom, and tbh I wanted to give him some sweet, affectionate loving and a characterization that I think is a little more true to what we see of him in the manga.
> 
> Anyway, Sakusa is stunning and I love him. Enjoy!

Kiyoomi has a quiet epiphany on his way home from practice.

He wakes up feeling refreshed at his usual 5am. The air is the perfect crisp temperature for his run, and he doesn’t run into anyone else in the misty sunrise through the park.

Usually one to sleep in, he's inwardly delighted to find you drowsy but awake when he returns at 6:30, leaning against the counter and sipping coffee in your sleeping shirt from last night--a Black Jackals jersey with his name and number upon it. As he passes through to wash his hands and drink water, he leans down to give you a gentle morning kiss, pleased by your sleepy smile and croaky greeting.

During his first shower of the day, he realizes he felt comfortable enough to give you a kiss in his sweaty state, the remnants of your coffee on his lips.

When he finally escapes the steaming wet room, you call out that you made him a smoothie, left to chill in the fridge during his hour-long stint in the bathroom. It tastes delicious, the bitterness of protein powder lost to peach and plum. He wanders out of the kitchen to find you in your bedroom. You look impeccable in your fitted business casual attire, fixing your hair as you get ready to depart.

He leans against the doorframe, and you catch his reflection in your vanity mirror. Your little smug smirk does horrible things to his heart, makes his fingers shaky, but he hides it well.

"Are you coming back tonight, or going home?" He almost forgot he spent the night in your apartment, a more recent development in his own comfort with you in the six months you've been seeing each other.

Pulling off the washable straw, Kiyoomi gazes back at you for a quiet moment. "If you don't mind, I'd enjoy staying the weekend with you."

His heart flutters in his chest when your perfectly painted lips pull into a beautiful grin. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to keep himself placated, but he can't lie--he's pleased the prospect of his presence makes you happy. In his limited romantic (and even platonic) experience, no one has found his company to be so desirable than you, and the thought still makes his head spin.

You cast him a nefariously innocent glance past long lashes. “Of course. You have a key.” And you wink playfully, like your reminder of your most recent gift to him–unmitigated access to your private spaces, to your home–is somehow suggestive.

Perhaps it is.

Kiyoomi nods, pushes off the door when you rise and turn the lights around the mirror off, room darkening in the early morning light. He leads the way back into your living room, eyes cast out the window as he stands by your genkan, still in his sweats and still sipping on the smoothie while you slip your shoes on, check your necessary belongings, and give him a big smile.

"Have a good day at practice," you murmur, tilting your head back invitingly. Kiyoomi doesn't have to think long, leaning down to share a delicate kiss with you, one that won't ruin your lipstick. He knows you appreciate his thoughtfulness. Your light touch to his bare chest makes his heart race.

The odd thought that he would very much like to ruin the vibrant red on your mouth floats through his head when his eyes meet yours again. Something deep within him whispers that you'd let him.

He licks his lips and wraps them around his straw.

With a little wave and jingling keys, you leave him to relax in your apartment alone, until he needs to leave for his 10 o'clock practice.

Practice feels good, as always. Sweating feels good, breathing hard and strengthening himself feels _good_. He's on point with his strikes, with meeting Atsumu's sets. Formation and attack execution goes off without a hitch. After de-conditioning, he stands in the private showers of the MSBY gym and cleans himself for the second time, not really listening to Hinata and Bokuto talk too loud, or to Atsumu practice his English with Oliver. He lets his mind wander to you.

He's still kind of stunned the relationship has lasted so long. You've been so patient with him and his anxious habits, and he absolutely notices. You're mature, level headed, proud of your job, and have successfully unraveled him like an intricate braid to the point where you've learned exactly how to tease him. Even when he informed you that physical intimacy was something he struggled with, you'd barely batted an eye and found other ways to burst warmth across his skin, to make his blood rush, all without laying a single finger upon him.

You're witty, considerate, and funny. You flirt shamelessly in a way that others maybe wouldn't recognize as flirting. You have a sweet, fruity hand sanitizer that's not hard on his skin that smells like your shampoo. You dramatically insisted that he think of you when he uses it; you learned exactly how to make the kind of protein shakes he likes, learned his orders at certain restaurants; you tell him with an alluring smile on your face that you just washed your sheets; your bathroom always smells freshly of orange-scented cleaner when you know he’ll be over.

The most bold thing you’ve done is change in front of him, telling him he’s going to see it anyway while shooting him a daring look that always has him glancing away. To say he’s never been more tempted to throw caution to the wind and take you then and there like he takes shy peeks at your body would be a severe understatement.

Kiyoomi has desired success, he’s desired a strong opponent on the court. He’s never desired another person so strongly in his life.

Rather counterproductively, he's only just become comfortable with physical affection with you in spite of how bad he's wanted it, wants you. He's even dreamed of fearlessly touching you--sliding his fingers between yours, across bare thighs, over warm cheeks. He's surprised by how easy it’s been to fall into you once he started touching you, letting you touch him. It certainly made it easier to inform you of his still intact virginity, which you shrugged off with equally alarming ease.

"I expected as much," you told him, smiling kindly while tracing a fingertip along the inside of his wrist. He didn't realize that spot could be so sensitive. "But don't worry. Whenever you're ready, I'll take care of you."

He’s rather indignant of the implication that he would need hand holding through your first shared moments of intimacy, but deep down knows you’re somewhat right. Unwilling to admit it to your face, he instead has started to look up all manner of lewd things and advice columns specifically written by women to learn about how to actually please a woman. He explicitly chooses not to ask his teammates, not quite convinced they know what they're talking about when they boast in the locker room. He knows it can’t make up for actual experience, but it helps ease his nerves that he won’t be totally clueless when the moment comes.

As he walks down the street towards your home after practice, he's realizing he feels exceptionally bold today. The world feels aligned, perfect, calm. This rare feeling doesn't fade as he steps into your apartment and kicks his shoes off next to yours. It clings to him while he’s anging his jacket in the closet, locking the door behind him and moving to throw away his mask and wash his hands.

He's passing your bathroom to change into lounge clothes when he hears the faint croon of music bleed out from behind the wood. Some invisible string tugs him to a halt, has him turning slowly on the balls of his feet, gazing at the crack between door and pane.

That strange confidence and deep-seated desire is what compels him to act. Has long fingers hooking with the handle, cracking the door open with a rush of warm air, light leaking out into the dark hallway and across the moles on his forehead.

You sit with your profile to him, entirely naked with your hair piled up on your head. Alluring curls of shorter hairs snake down your neck, following drops of water. You lean forward on the shower stool, smearing some sort of scrub down your leg, the curve of your rear apparent, the droop of your breasts mouthwatering.

You're a little sudsy, and honestly everything that makes up a number of Kiyoomi's personal fantasies. Dewy skin, freshly cleaned, about to lounge back in warm water to relax. His body burns, and not so much with the heat of the room washing over him.

You pour warm water over your legs after caressing them slowly, reaching for the moisturising oil and rubbing a drool worthy shine into your skin. Up your legs, over your belly, back and breasts, down your arms, the lightly sweet scent not overbearing once it reaches your vouyer’s nose.

You're rubbing it into your neck and shoulders when you suddenly shiver, toes curling against the tile, dusky nipples poking hard from what he can see from his angle. Your head tilts with a sigh.

"Do you want to join me, Omi?" He nearly jumps out of his skin, glad you glance back at him a second after he's collected himself. You pout, like catching him watching you like a creep is normal. "If not, it's too cold with the door open for so long. In or out?"

You share a long look and--surprising you both--he slips into the small wet room and pulls the door shut after him.

Your head is tilted back to peer up into his pink face from your seat, brows rising. He can see your lips purse in that way that tells him you're trying very hard not to smile, and his natural pout pulls down further.

"Well," you say, clearing your throat and reaching up with both hands to fix your messy hair. It puts your breasts entirely on display, and Kiyoomi can't help but admire them, biting his bottom lip. You rise slowly, and Kiyoomi reaches out a hand to help you, swallowing thick at your entirely nude figure standing before him for the first time. "I'm going to get in my bath. I know you've already taken one, but…" You shrug, looking up at him from under heavy lids. "Feel free to join however you like."

Your cute butt faces him as you lean forward to uncover the hot water, flashing pretty labia squeezed lustily between your thighs. Kiyoomi blinks quickly at the sight, eyes wide as he watches you unnecessarily hitch a leg up onto the edge of the tub to dip your fingers into the water, letting him see your lips spread to reveal that small little intimate hole he's never been inside of, the bud of your clit, the shadow of your asshole.

Kiyoomi's back thuds against the door, his pants feeling restrictive. Hell, all of his clothes feel scratchy and uncomfortable against his skin.

You glance over your shoulder at him with heavy eyes, slowly twisting to straddle the tub's lip before twisting again and lowering yourself into the steaming water. You sigh, sinking down to your chest, draping your arms and head back in luxurity.

You smile, pretty and genuine, laughing slightly as he just...watches.

"How was your day?" You ask, leaning forward to mess with your phone, where it sits precariously on the sill of the blurry bathroom window. It glows a dusky blue with the waning sun.

It takes him a second to respond, watching the lines of your neck and back flex before you're relaxing again, brows rising at him.

He clears his throat. "Good." And it has been. It's only getting better, he thinks, stepping further into the small space. He peels his shirt off, finding you watching with undisguised desire, hot and earnest in your eyes. Kiyoomi gulps and hangs his shirt on the hook on the door before he leans down to pick up the stool you'd been sat upon. "Practice went well. How was your day?"

You sigh, stroking a finger along your lips as you watch him step closer, eyes drooping with...lust? Exhaustion? Both? "Long. My neck and feet hurt. I'm happy it's the weekend."

Kiyoomi hums, watching you rest your pretty feet up on the opposite edge of the tub, knees peeking out of the water. You tilt your head back as he sets the stool down behind your head. He pauses, blinks down at the wet seat, and then up at you. He can see how the water line clings to your breasts, molds to your bare straining nipples as you breathe. All the way down into the water where your thighs squeeze together and make an alluring, not so mysterious y-shape hiding your center from view.

You watch him like every move he makes is enchanting, and it has his fingers moving to fiddle with the button on his jeans. It only makes sense, he doesn't want to be sitting in wet pants while he does...whatever he's going to do in here with you. The bottom of the denim is already uncomfortably soaked even where it sits at his ankles, spurring him on.

You say nothing, watching with your head tilted back as he flicks and unzips his jeans, capitalizing on his logical leap to take his boxer briefs down with them. You both sigh at the release--him, from his hard cock standing half hard and unrestrained with the sting of sexual freedom, you from the step closer to something he knows you've been so patiently waiting for, so careful with and kind about.

Folding them away onto a little shelf built into the wall near the door, Kiyoomi takes in the perspiration on your skin, the way your fingers curl against porcelain, how you lick your lips while your eyes travel down the stray moles dotting his body, all the way down to the parts you’re seeing for the first time. He feels too warm in his nudity before you, clears his throat again and sits tentatively behind you, scooting closer to the tub. You bring your legs back into the water, intent on turning to face him. Big hands rest on your shoulders, pushing you gently back into place.

"Let me help you relax," he breathes, brushing his cheek against yours. You shiver beneath his touch, and his neck flares hot. He's never had a woman moan for him like you do in this moment, soft and appreciative, and he's barely touched you. His cock throbs with familiar need, but he ignores it, instead reaching for the oil you'd rubbed into your skin just moments before, lathering his hands in it, and digging strong fingers into the tense muscles on your neck.

Your drawl vibrates through the small room. He feels it in his gut, watches your head tilt forward to give him more room to grope you. You murmur his name, hum it like a drunken prayer, and he leans forward as if drawn in by the sound, pressing a soft kiss behind your ear.

"That feels so good," you breathe, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, cool wetness of your washed hair grounding him where it presses against his flushed cheek.

He says nothing, dropping a kiss against your shoulder. He’s content to rub the tension away, to watch it leave your limbs from below the surface of the water.

A sudden, soft, drunken giggle leaves you that has him smiling. “If I knew you were this good with your hands, I would’ve asked you to do this earlier.”

Kiyoomi feels a pang for his anxieties, sighing softly in an attempt to banish his concerns. He’s well aware that you’re used to relationships that are, physically, more amorous than what he gives you. Lately, as he’s eased the door open to touching you casually, to experiencing the intimacy of skinship he’s always been afraid of and sometimes still is, he finds himself lamenting it--being resentful of himself and the limits he puts upon himself that he can’t seem to shake.

Instead of making empty promises for the future, Kiyoomi kisses your cheek, then your ear, eyes the way your chest hitches with your breath at the soft touch. Something burns through him--a determination he usually only feels on the court, and his fingers follow the paths of water droplets slinking down your chest until the warm water engulfs his hands to his wrists, cupping each one of your breasts in a hand and squeezing.

You gasp his name, soft cheek pressing against him. Your closest hand comes up out of the water and hooks behind his neck, fingers tangling in his curly hair at his nape.

His heart pounds as he watches his thumbs curiously explore the hardened flesh of your nipples, tugging and pinching softly. “Is this okay?” He should have asked first, but you’re nodding and pushing your feet against the end of the tub, like you want to press back against him, and he suddenly wishes he was in the bath with you, to feel all of you for the first time.

But this is a delicate, intricate process, he reminds himself. He lets himself take things slow, circling your nipples with the tips of his fingers, squeezing the surprisingly giving flesh while he kisses your neck, pays rapt attention to the way you gasp and moan, how your little hand covers his to touch you the way you need him to.

“Kiyoomi,” you plead softly against his ear, like he's torturing you. “Will you touch me between my legs? Please?” Beneath the water, your drool worthy thighs spread as much as they can, that peek of your clit only just visible from his angle.

He leans back to get a better angle, finally giving you the chance to look back at him entirely. Your face is pinched, eyes heavy, and you pet his cheek as one hand slinks further until his arm is submerged to his bicep. His fingers stroke through trimmed hair, exploring the soft flesh of your labia. He pauses, feeling your inner lips, and peers at you. He hopes you know what he wants.

You smile, laugh breathlessly, and lean back against the arm still wrapped around you. “Let me guide you?” He nods, like there’s a choice, but he finds he enjoys gazing into your eyes as your smaller fingers slip over his, parting your lower lips together to let him discover the slick gathering between your thighs.

Kiyoomi knows he shouldn't be too surprised to find your slick feels similar to lube, but he is surprised it's potent enough that the bathwater hasn’t even diluted it. One lone finger splits down across your clit and hole between the V your finger makes around it, pressing your lips back for him. He passes over what he knows is your perineum, can feel the pucker of your asshole after it and jerks his hand back with a whispered apology. You just grin and giggle again, giving him a reassuring kiss.

“Do you...want me inside?” He asks against your lips, finger curling back up to press all around the topography of your pussy. Does he want to be inside you? Realizing the intimacy of such closeness feels like a mainlined dose of epinephrine.

You shake your head, and he’s partially relieved. “Just rub my clit for now.” He does as you ask, dragging the pad of his finger back up beneath the hood of your clit, fumbling for a moment to find the right place until you guide him.

“Start soft,” you whisper, bursting gooseflesh across his neck and back. He shivers, his hand on your breast gripping tight. You hum, eyes lowering to his lips, pulling him back in for another kiss as he uses three fingers to rub at you.

He knew it would be arousing to watch you twitch and wiggle at his touch, but he didn’t realize how achy the throb would actually be. His dick weeps against his belly for you, toes curling in icy cold water on the floor for your soft moans and the way you grasp at his wrists. At first he thinks you want him to stop, but when you beg for him, whispering softly against his high cheekbone _please don’t stop, Kiyo, please_ , he presses down upon you with more vigor, eagerly, breathing in your agonized whine and watching your face crumple beautifully.

“S’it feel good?” He murmurs, deep voice breaking under the weight of his lust. Your clit feels firm, lips puffy, the viscosity of your slick intensifying at his touch. Vaguely, he remembers the advice he read upon--good signs, very good signs, and he keeps his pace and pressure just like this even when his arm quakes from the unfamiliar, prolonged swirl of his wrist

“Yesyesyesyes--” Your hips twist under his touch, eyes casting him a wide, starry-eyed glance that draws him closer until he’s kissing you messily. You’ve shared kisses like this before, after a few drinks together or when he’s feeling more confident, and he’s unbothered this time by the wetness you leave behind to gasp, arm around your shoulders flexing to bring you back in, muffling your next call of his name, dipping his tongue past your lips to taste yours. His hand squeezes your breast, catching your nipple between two fingers at the cupping insistence of your own, and quite suddenly your thighs snap together around his wrist, your head twisting away to gasp a squeaking sound against his neck.

You stiffen and quake. Water sloshes, your hands grasping at him, then the bath, yourself, him again, and he doesn’t stop pushing your through your first orgasm at his touch even when your hips start to buck into each rub of your clit.

You start laughing. It doesn’t sound mocking--it’s more shocked and breathless, and it ekes into a distressed sound that accompanies you tugging at his wrist. Kiyoomi relents, moving to rest his hand on your belly, sitting back against the cold stool once more.

He finally lets you twist around, amused by your struggle to make your limbs work. You can’t help smiling back, finally getting your knees under you and pushing up to put yourself at eye height with him. You’re bared from the waist up, water clinging to your beautiful breasts and your shoulders, and you lean over the back of the tub to wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him properly. A barrage of water drips down his back and shoulders, but you feel so warm and soft that he lets his broad hands pull you closer, as close as he can get you with the edge of the bath in the way.

“Get in with me?” You wind your fingers with his curls, nipping at his bottom lip as you pull away. Kiyoomi doesn’t have to be told twice when leveled with your lust-blown pupils, rising from your hold and waiting for you to shift backwards. He sinks into the warm water, more than eager to have you slink into his lap and rub yourself against him.

It’s intoxicating, the feeling of your body against his. Normally such close contact would have him feeling anxious, but you feel soft and slick and warm, comfortable and safe. Having another human’s body and all her soft spots squish into his is alarmingly arousing, and Kiyoomi grunts and grips your waist when you shamelessly rub your pussy across his cock beneath the water.

 _Oh wow_. Kiyoomi huffs, thighs quivering, at the lurid back and forth sway your hips make in his lap, absolutely unprepared. Your pussy feels like silk, and that's just the outside of it, pressed along your lips and the bump of your clit catching on his swollen cockhead has you both twitching and sighing.

You press slow, soft kisses against his forehead, down over his nose and mouth and neck. Sakusa let's his head fall back, a hushed groan vibrating against your lips.

"I wanna make you _cum_ , Omi," you plead against his jugular, your hips never stopping their hypnotic motions. His chest jumps with an inhale, hands squeezing you tight, a blush stinging at his skin that's hotter than the bath water. You croon when his cock twitches against you, slurping away from his neck to give him a wide eyed look of need. "Can I?"

Kiyoomi has no idea what to do. His head feels full of conflicting emotions, all while he mindlessly helps you rock back and forth along the length of him.

You pet his shoulders and chest, hum in question that's way more convincing than it should be for just one sound, and ask in a sweet tone, "Can I, Kiyo?"

"Ye--" His voice catches, his toes curling with a shock of pleasure. He nods and gasps, "Yeah."

"Um." You wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning into your own arm with a lazy, lewd swirl of your hips. Kiyoomi's brows come down, lips parting to grind out another groan, hands curling into the plush softness of your ass. "Do you want to have sex, or...or we can just do this?"

He grips your hips tightly, barely feels like he can think. It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to answer, but you don’t rush him, seeming content to rub your pussy all over his cock

Kiyoomi feels like he's about to combust when he says, "I like this." He hopes you aren't disappointed, hopes that you don't want more.

You moan, your toes flexing where they're hooked between his thighs and yours, nails digging into his arms. Fuck, he _feels_ your pussy twitch, _helps_ grind you against him again. "I do, too," you admit, voice weak and whiny and the sexiest thing he thinks he's ever heard.

You whimper and keen, peering at him with your forehead against his. The soft bouncing motion of your body on his cock, the saccharine rub of your skin against his, makes him feel delirious. The humid air fills his lungs as he pants, makes his head spin. He _really_ likes the way it feels to push up against you, to help you bob and thrust across the length of his dick. The catch of his sensitive head and folds of his frenulum against the plush, slick petals of your pussy makes it easy to forget about his inhibitions, to ignore the way water splashes over the edge of the tub, to not be affected by what would be embarrassment with anyone else when he slips down low in the water to luxuriate in simply letting you ride him and take your pleasure and give him his. All while he gets to watch your breasts bob and your eyes flutter.

It's an intense haze of messy kisses and moans, hands wandering and squeezing, shared moans and shivers despite the heat. The head of his cock catches on your hole, and you both flinch and gasp. Something grasps deep and agonizing in Kiyoomi's gut at the hint to the fluttering gummy softness that awaits him within you, rushing fast and quick through his blood, makes his cock throb and thicken against you.

You whine his name, nuzzling down into his curly, damp hair, his mouth catching on your soft breast. His fingers dig deep into your ass and thigh, your hand dipping between you to curve around his dick, pressing the sensitive flesh closer to yours to grind easier upon him. Your fingers are small, soft, delicate; feeling them wrap around him as no one else has ever touched him before makes him grunt and bury his face against your breast, hidden expression tight with the newness of your touch and unfamiliar desperation for release.

Your choked moans of his name ratchet up in pitch, but squeeze down to a whisper, almost like your whole body is winding tight. He gathers you close and squeezes strong arms around you, feeling you shake into your second orgasm, grunting with each greedy swirl of your clit across the intense, swollen bumps and nerves of the head of his cock.

The next moan that escapes you is debauched. "I love you so much, Omi," you slur out against his ear, gripping tight to the back of his neck, helping him hitch your hips impossibly closer to his with a slap of flesh against water.

He gasps, legs stiffening, digs his nails into your ass as you sit back and pump his cock with everything you're worth, using his foreskin and viscous slick, all while breathing moans across his shoulder and neck, lips parted and skimming over his flushed skin.

Fuck, he's going to cum. You're gonna make him cum if you keep twisting and stroking over him better than he thinks he's ever touched himself, and his widened eyes meet yours at the realization.

He puts a firm hand on your shoulder. "W-Wait, I don't--" He cuts himself off, hissing unhappily when your hand halts. Cheeks flushed and eyes still wide with desire, there's a tinge of concern behind your gaze that makes him huff.

"Are you okay?"

He swallows thick, trying to ignore the way your breasts squish against his chest. His heart is racing like crazy, the edged throb of his cock screaming at him for stopping you.

He nods, placing his shaky hands on the edges of the tub. "I don't want to finish in the bathwater."

He can't quite let _everything_ go in the moment.

Kiyoomi stands on quivering legs, water sluicing down his body, and he won't ever admit it but he likes the way your fucked out gaze lazes over each muscular inch he reveals to you while you kneel before him. Belatedly, his vision swims as his blood tries to rush to his head. He grips your shoulder tight and takes a deep, grounding breath.

Your eyes follow him, glancing between the red length standing in your face and your boyfriend's natural frown. He stiffens when your hands rest on his muscular thighs, shifting to kneel between his legs in the bath.

"Do you want to cum in my mouth?" You'd think your question was revolutionary. He blinks wildly down at you, as if such a thought had never occurred to him. He hadn't had a solution before, but--

"I--do _you_ \--" He frowns harder, throat bobbing again, his chest flushing pink. "Do you want me to...cum, in your mouth?"

You smile, reaching up to scratch your nails through the well-trimmed dark hair at the base of his cock. "I don't have to put my whole mouth on you. But I promise to catch it all." You wink at his dubious look that doesn’t quite align with the way his dick throbs, but wait and watch.

Kiyoomi studies you, slowly leaning back against the sweating tile behind him that you clean diligently after every bath you take, a practice you picked up from him when your relationship turned more serious and that he appreciates deeply. Biting his bottom lip, he watches you wrap your hand around the head of his cock again, using his foreskin like before to bring him the unbearable amount of pleasure he struggles to bring himself.

He pants and winces, scoops his damp, curly hair back out of his face, gripping it at the crown of his skull, to watch you between his thighs. You glisten, dewy and clean, lips swollen from shared kisses and bites, and he didn't realize he'd like this so much. Didn't realize how _good_ it would feel, how good _you_ feel.

Your other hand traces lightly over his protruding hip bone, from one mole to the next that dot his abdomen. Your breasts press to his shaky thighs and sensitive balls, and you leave tiny, chaste kisses across his flexing stomach. It feels like being stabbed over and over again, each light kiss you leave shoots through him like Cupid's arrow, aimed with your careful consideration and affection for him, and a choked sound escapes him when his cock aches hot in your delicate grasp again.

Long lashes framing wide pupils flutter, glancing down to watch your work. You smile, feel him twitch, and give a slow, hard, twisting pull at his cock that has his hips swaying to follow, sighing breathy across the sensitive and leaking tip.

"You're so pretty Kiyoomi. All of you." Your praise cuts him deep with the upward stroke of your palm towards his chest, makes his breath come hard like he just played hours of volleyball, the kissable cheek you rest on his thigh as you stroke back down feeling like silk.

"Oh fuck," he moans, hands slapping flat behind him, hips bucking forward with another ecstatic rush of pleasure. A familiar feeling, an anxious feeling that has his heart racing. He murmurs your name through a raspy sound, grits his teeth, can barely keep his eyes open.

You shift in front of him with a slight splash of water, devious eyes on his face. Your pretty mouth opens and your tongue comes out. Heat burns across his skin, your gaze shamelessly locked on his. Your hand doesn't stop. Your other rises to join it, both tugging and twisting his whole length and it makes his dick look huge as you pump him for his cum. They slow to a crawling pace that has an embarrassing, low whine escaping the striker’s throat.

"O-ooh fuck..." He hisses, snarling with the first rope of cum that you squeeze out of him. It streaks across your top lip, some in your mouth. You lean closer for the next one, moaning as it shoots true across your tongue, coloring the back of your throat white. Your lashes flutter then droop, and Kiyoomi's knees quake dangerously.

Its been _so_ long, he realizes, watching, dazed and dumb, as he cums thick and excessive into your waiting mouth, dick pulsing against the tight, overwhelming strokes you continue to give him. So long since he gave himself this kind of release. He's backed up, full and virile just for you.

 _Just for you. Just for you, only you._ It echoes through his head.

You hum and croon and catch every drop. Even though some lands messy on your chin and lips, he finds he doesn't really mind. He watches his semen glisten as it pools, watches your eyes almost roll at the taste of him, and finds himself wanting to be buried in your throat.

Thoughtlessly, Kiyoomi has his hands buried in your hair, tugging and pulling with each near painful pulse, thumbs stroking under your eyes. He feels the wet, warm touch of your tongue to the sensitive red head of his cock and jumps, cheeks stinging when some inner animal part of him jerks forward towards it by his grip on your head. He's stuttering over an apology that's barely understandable when your mouth closes around just the tip, sucking whatever is left of his soul out of his cock and into you.

It's just the easing stroke of your hand and your lips, full and pulling taught with the suction before you ease off with a lustrous wet sound, swallowing his load with a mischievous glance up towards him. Kiyoomi is entranced, he realizes, as he watches you sit back, your hands sitting unmoving on his quaky thighs, looking like the cat who got her cream.

Fucked out and drunk on sizzling pleasure, Kiyoomi's lips hitch in an amused smirk. Your eyes sparkle up at him, a glow of delight on your pretty cheeks.

His dark eyes flick to his cum on your face. Licking your lips is alluring, but barely does anything to clean you off. You move to wipe it away, but he's faster. He doesn't know what sort of spell you have on him, what kind of siren's song you've sung that has him so purely at ease and willing to do whatever you want at the expense of his so deeply engraved habits and hang ups, but he drags his finger up your chin, then across the soft silk of your lips, gathering his own cum silently, without flinching.

You're frozen, watching him as he cleans you. When his finger hovers soiled before your lips, you look pleasantly surprised at the action, but open obediently nonetheless and suckle his finger clean.

Clean, he thinks, pressing his finger down across the twitching mold of your tongue to his digit. He knows you're clean. Tastes it on you when he kisses you, smells it on you. He knows he's clean, he thinks as his finger slides free of the wet warm cavern of your mouth. Showered and clean before he came home from practice and found himself seduced into your bath.

Kiyoomi slides down the wall into the encouraging pull of your hands, back into the steamy bathwater. He kisses you, eagerly, without care. Your body is soft and enthralling against his, and his heartbeat slows to match yours while he wraps you up in his strong hold.

Kiyoomi tastes minty toothpaste on you, and he tastes himself. He tastes relaxation and trust. The tension you literally sucked out of him gives him a moment to really just be for the first time in what feels like a very long time.

The silence that follows is easier than he thought it would be, cuddled close with you and simply reveling in the pleasured rush still active in his veins. You stroke your fingers across his chest. "I hope I didn't take it too far. When I used my mouth. I apologize if I did."

Kiyoomi shakes his head, tightening his grip on you. "I liked it."

Your low, teasing purr makes him roll his eyes. He's happy you say nothing about how his dick twitches against you in interest.

You splay yourself back upon him languidly, dramatically. "First you sneak into my bath to finger me, then you tell me you like my head? Kiyoomi, you seductress."

You wiggle your plush rear against him, and laugh when he clamps his arms around you to make you stop, slinking low in the water, bright red face buried in your shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comment if you liked it!!!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @ saetyrn9


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